Where's Rudy? He was here a second ago. We got into an argument. I was yelling at him about mixing up the hand soap and the body wash, and he excused himself. I have no idea where he is. Hiding under laurel's bed. In a relationship discussion. Need help. Breathe. Stay hidden. Coming.

Up next, a special report: Insomnia, The Silent Killer. Research shows that 54 percent of American adults suffer a sleeping disorder. Side effects can include lost work productivity, depression, increased heart risk … gum disease, petulance, flatulence, Ebola virus, premature writhing death. So get into bed, close your eyes, drift away, and get some rest. No pressure.

Come to bed, Snookums. In a minute. Are you still playing Scrabble? And flaming my opponents. I just crushed an eight-year-old by 100 points and then told him his parents don't love him because he's illiterate! How nice you've found a hobby. I feel so nurtured.

Boss? There was a scrawny pigeon taped to my bedroom window this morning. A post-it note stuck to its back said "Sincerely, Armstrong." So it wasn't a dream! Last night, as I slumbered in my bed, I was visited by three spirits. They took me on a tour of Christmases past, present, and future. I used the tips future-me gave me to tell past-me to save money so present-me can buy the right obscure stocks, so future-me can reap huge dividends in 2047. Very. Bad. Man. The ghosts said something about my not appreciating you. So I swung by and left you a Christmas dinner, to pacify them.

I recently read "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up." It's changed my life, minion. Pay attention. May involve me. The reason a lot of us never have a truly clean house is, we settle. Settlers. Pilgrims. Turkey. Our clothes, for instance. Out closets are full of stuff we're just ok with. What should we do is take everything out, lay it all on the bed, go through it ... and anything we have to think about keeping, we toss. Floss. The only things you should keep in your closet are the ones that immediately fill you with joy. Almond Joy. Joy Behar. The human mind is much like a closet. To be truly happy, we must eliminate any unnecessary thoughts that don't bring us joy. I meditate every morning to ensure all my thoughts are profitable. It's important to focus. My next car might be a yellow Ford Focus.

I want you to work on something when you get home, minion. I'm supposed to be able to rest once I've gone home. I've always wanted to have a trademark one-liner, like the heroes of all those old action movies. Like in Cobra. Sylvester Stallone was a rogue cop who told a criminal "You're the disease, and I'm the cure." Or like in Total Recall, when Arnold Schwarzenegger's wife turned out to be an evil killer. He eliminated her and then said "Consider that a divorce." Or like in They Live, when just before he killed a bunch of evil aliens, Rowdy Roddy Piper said "I have come here to chew bubble gum, and kick (butt) ... and I'm all out of bubble gum." Your task tonight is to generate six one-liners I can use whenever I squeeze unpaid work out of my employees. I'm supposed to be able to rest once I've gone home. You're the rest, and I'm the bed. The kind with spikes on it. That's awful. Fix that up and give me six more.

Give me whatever and make it fast. What? What do you mean? My wife gave me ten minutes of freedom for Father's Day. And I burned through three of those just sprinting over here. We have four children and a fifth one any day now. She's tired in bed so I'm on 24/7 kid duty. I haven't left the house, taken a shower, or gone potty by myself since 2015. My ear hairs are skinny secret babies that whisper to me at night that I may be going insane. So for Father's Day, my loving wife granted me ten fleeting moments of me-time, which I choose to spend buying expensive coffee in a run-down cafe, like I used to do when I was young and single and had all the time in the world. Mom wants to know when you'll be back. Tell the short person I can't hear it for another 5 minutes and 48 seconds! Sometimes I'm glad I can't even get a date.

This is Dr. Sadie, what's your question, caller? Where do you think I should invest my tax refund? That's a great question. In my day, most people would've opted to put the funds into your standard Serta, or even a newfangled Posturepedic. Those people were morons. The more forward-thinking investor knew she'd run less of a risk of bed bugs eating her fortune if she went with a La-Z-Boy. Um ... ok, ... thanks.

What're you reading? You've been reading that all day. Oh, nothing much … Just a printout of all your most humiliating Facebook posts, "likes" and conversations, which have all become exposed to the world because you never updated your privacy settings. I'll be performing a dramatic reading of the most damaging ones on my radio show. I'll begin with the bed-wetting status update. Yes! I've gone multimedia!

I recently read "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up". It's changed my life, minion. Pay attention. May involve me. The reason a lot of us never have a truly clean house is, we settle. Settlers. Pilgrims. Turkey. Our clothes, for instance. Our closets are full of stuff we're just ok with. What we should do is take everything out, lay it all on the bed, go through it ... and anything we have to think about keeping, we toss. Floss. The only things you should keep in your closet are the ones that immediately fill you with joy. Almond Joy. Joy Behar. The human mind is much like a closet. To be truly happy, we must eliminate any unnecessary thoughts that don't bring us joy. I meditate every morning to ensure all my thoughts are profitable. It's important to focus. My next car might be a yellow Ford Focus.

So you're not running for the Republican party's nomination for president? I'm dropping out to spend more time with my family. What family? You don't have any "family." You don't even have a girlfriend, or any prospects. You don't have so much as a hamster. The closest thing you have to a dependent is the mouse that lives under your bed. If you're quitting 'cause you can't win, just say so. I'm pursuing opportunities in the private sector. Stop it.

I don’t know, man, I think you've taken it a little too far, divvying people up like this. Nonsense. It's a delicate balance. A little depression is good for business. Stimulates the sale of comfort foods. But too much depression, and half of my patrons won't even get out of bed, let alone buy anything. What do you mean "stop"? All I said to that democrat was "nanny-nanny-boo-boo." Yes, but you're in the non-gloating section.

Come to bed, snookums. In a minute. Are you still playing Scrabble? And flaming my opponents. I just crushed an eight-year-old by 100 points, and then told him his parents don’t love him because he's illiterate! How nice you've found a hobby. I feel so nurtured.